


The Longest Time

by TheShippingMaster



Series: TENET is not just a faceless organisation [3]
Category: Tenet (2020)
Genre: Awkward Flirting, Getting to Know Each Other, Hospitalization, M/M, Neil POV, Panic Attacks, Saving the World, based on billy joel song, chain smoking to make friends
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-29
Updated: 2021-01-26
Packaged: 2021-03-09 19:42:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 17,183
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27761695
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheShippingMaster/pseuds/TheShippingMaster
Summary: a collection of snapshot fics from (mostly) Neil's pov throughout his time as a Tenet agent and his relationship with David.centered around the song The Longest Time by Billy Joel
Relationships: Ives & Neil & The Protagonist (Tenet), Ives & Neil (Tenet), Neil & The Protagonist (Tenet), Neil & Wheeler (Tenet), Neil/The Protagonist (Tenet)
Series: TENET is not just a faceless organisation [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1971535
Comments: 29
Kudos: 45





	1. And the greatest miracle of all is how I need you, and how you needed me too

**Author's Note:**

> The vibes for this fic will be updated per each chapter. This chapter's vibes are Hey Stupid, I Love you by JP Saxone

It was the sparkle in his eyes that caught Neil’s attention as they drank out on the balcony. They were the only ones by the grated-railing, away from the music of the interior, gazing out at the effervescent lights of the city. The night had dropped to a nice chill ever since the sun dipped below the horizon, yet Neil felt himself warming up at how _he_ was smiling at him.

What Neil had said wasn’t even that funny, and the alcohol couldn’t be blamed as for why he seemed so cheery because David had barely touched his glass all night. Despite working together for about a year, there had been this barrier that Neil couldn’t quite break, a tension that bordered on awkwardness whenever he and David were alone. He’d first thought that maybe it was just the way he was. David was their boss after all. Separation was a necessity between decision-makers and disposable tools like himself.

However, this seemed to change. David’s laughter was earthy, if laugh’s could be earthy; just like the rest of him, it seemed so grounded and real and unbelievably genuine that Neil was left in awe. His face bloomed and he doubled over, holding onto the railing with both hands. It was infectious; Neil let out a startled giggle of his own. And then: bam! Those eyes. When David glanced at Neil, crinkled up and recovering from that burst, there was something there, something that made Neil halt.

The melancholy that seemed to permeate his usually composed manner whenever he faced Neil was gone. That unmistakeable sadness Neil could always pick up, that made him wonder what had caused such pain to this unbelievably beautiful man, was gone. It might’ve been only momentarily, but it had disappeared. Replaced was this joy, and Neil couldn’t believe that it stemmed from his really bad joke.

Like, a _really_ bad joke. Embarrassingly bad.

Neil huffed out a few laughs out of politeness and wracked his brain on how to maintain this momentum. Apparently, whatever mindless thing he said got him laughing again, and Neil started to question his attraction to this man. Sure, he was gorgeous and intelligent, with a streak of grey in his hair indicating that maybe he was little bit too old for him, (okay, David was probably a lot older than him, but Neil was the pursuer so it wasn’t weird, _promise_ ), and yeah he might have terrible taste in humour, but fuck it if it meant that Neil got to be closer to him.

And it hadn’t been for a lack of trying, too. Neil had to beg for his first field mission, to pester for his second. Both times, David watched over him like a hawk, fingers twitching every time he had the urge to micro manage Neil’s decisions. He’d tried not to be annoyed, but he wanted to let him know that he had this! Hadn’t David recruited him from MI6 in the first place? Didn’t he know of his extensive background in Manchester? Neil talked about bridging this lack of trust, to get to know each other better on and off the field. It might have sounded like he was flirting, but honest to whatever-god was out there (Oppenheimer 2.0, this is for you girl!), Neil had said it purely in a professional sense.

There had been lunches, undercover missions, and many break ins, all to no avail on getting past that barrier. In his defence, David was adamant on keeping distance with everyone, but it was hard for Neil not to take it personally. Not when David had plucked him out of his menial existence and given him meaning.

“I don’t think I’ve heard you laugh before,” mused Neil as he raised his champagne glass to his lips. He kept his tone playful, hoping David would catch on. David rolled his head to the side, turning so he faced the restaurant they were at instead of the city and leaned against the railing. He didn’t say anything and his grin was fading. “I like it,” Neil quickly said, affirming him with a little tipsy flash of his teeth.

“Do you, now?” asked David, staring at the floor.

Neil nodded and took a sip. “It’s a nice laugh. You should do it more often.”

Oh god, the warmth was leaving and the shield was piecing itself together. Neil could feel it with each second David’s cheery-self evaporated. No no no no no no no no no no! C’mon! Neil turned his attention back to the city, swallowing his disappointment.

They just stayed that way in silence, the music from the party casually booming. Neil wished to confide in a friend these feelings he had, but so far he only had David. He could be sociable when he wanted to, he just hadn’t spent enough time on the battlefield, his missions mostly being intelligence-gathering or espionage in nature. He never received elaborate parties as remittance like the ones combative agents did. The first to show him any kindness in their headquarters was Wheeler, who seemed to be the most senior field agent within Tenet. She’d introduced him to Ives, a recruit who was Neil’s junior but had been part of Tenet for years prior already. A brooding bloke, Neil got the vibe that Ives didn’t care for him all too much. When Neil had been assigned to their troop, surrounded by agents who’d slap backs and tap elbows in greeting, several agents had enthusiastically said their hellos to their newest cadet. They all seemed friendly enough and had invited him to join them in their festivities, but as for right now, Neil wished to stay and continue this conversation. Being alone with David was all he desired at the moment, no matter how hard it could be.

When they’d been gathered in one of the many conference halls in this hotel, all Neil had eyes for was David. Surrounded by other agents of high calibre, who’d simmered down to be serious, the mission important and stakes high, and all he could do was stare at David as he talked. Knuckles under his chin, elbow on his armrest, Neil couldn’t help but just observe him; how his voice commanded the attention of every agent, the way he kept his hands still while he talked with only a marker pen to hold, or even how he seemed to be actively avoiding Neil’s eye. He felt like a fucking student with a crush on teacher.

He’d wanted to hang back for a moment, to talk to him privately. But David had seen him and quickly rushed out with the crowd, leaving Neil to slump back in his chair. Sure, he had gotten hints that David didn’t want to spend one-on-one time with him when they were in headquarters or other such functions, but then they were paired together on missions and he seemed to provide Neil with all the attention in the world. It was getting a little tiring, keeping track if David liked him or not. 

They stayed side-by-side on the balcony in silence for several minutes before David pushed himself off the railing. David faced him fully, a hand over his heart with a grim expression.

“Thank you for saving me today,” David said.

Neil looked at him, surprised he’d even said anything.

How such a bustling city had been so close to a scene of a battlefield without having any clue was baffling to Neil. Their unit met counterforces, with objects inverting back into buildings and bullets flying in all sorts of spatial and temporal directions. It was unlike anything Neil had experienced before, with the exhilaration overwhelming his senses. It had taken him several minutes of straight sprinting to finally begin shooting and dodging.

He could only hear his breathing, the gunshots drowned out by his flight or fight response kicking into hyper drive. The mask did nothing to help, impairing his vision, and the gear slowing his movement. He’d not gotten all the straps adjusted and the tactical gear wore him like a teenage boy, ill-fitting and loose. He hadn’t the same physique as David (or, hell, Ives!), and Neil was a lanky twat but he tried to make it work.

In the midst of a million things going on at once, Neil had managed to follow his unit to their targeted zone, providing cover for the main team. The heavy thumping of his rifle shook his entire being, spraying bullets in all hostile directions. He’d only stop if Wheeler pulled him down or away, to the point where it seemed like he would await her signal to begin shooting again. They were an unspoken pair; Neil returned her many favours by calling for her to move away at the first sign of land inversion, or even bullet inversion.

Even though he had wanted David by his side, the older man was part of the splinter team of five. They’d separated from their inverted team near the beginning, and Neil grew more and more anxious as they stayed in the destroyed building. In the chaos, Neil had recognised in his periphery the main team running out of the rubble, carrying a large container between four agents. It swung awkwardly between them, pulled in different directions as they rushed out, the container low. He wasn’t sure when it clicked, but as the other agents began following the main team’s retreat, Neil glanced back at the rubble. There had only been four; where was the fifth?

He wasn’t sure how he’d come to the conclusion that who had been left behind was David; it was something he knew in his bones and not through any sort of logic. Just as Wheeler signalled for their remaining agents to return, Neil sprinted forward. Her grip just barely grazed his arm, slipping away as he ran, her screaming his name drowned out by the single thought: _keep David safe_.

It was a blur as he went. The rubble of the building was starting to move, and Neil picked up his pace. He slid down through opening by the ground where the splinter unit had exited, scraping his boots against the rock and landing in motion. He nearly toppled over the foothold and glimpsed the deep abyss below. The stairwell of this destroyed building went down into the darkness, with metal spokes sticking out of the floors. A second more and he was rushing down, calling out his name. Around him the concrete and pillars were reverting to their original forms, and Neil boosted his tiring body. He kept calling David’s name, bounding over ledges to reach deeper levels of this broken carpark.

“Neil!” he finally called back, rushing out from the dark. Neil halted in his steps and retracted, slinging his gun over his shoulder. David was hobbling toward him, dragging a container like the one the others had, only smaller. Neil rushed over and picked up the other end. And they were off, carrying it up the broken but increasingly becoming-fixed stairs.

Large swaths of building and wall raised itself out of the pit, and Neil could see in his periphery that the steps and flooring of this circular park ring were fixing itself bottom up. He and David rushed to where the hole in the rubble was. David took initiative and somehow managed to heave the round container through, pushing it away to make room. He bent down and clasped his hands together, Neil stepped on him and was lifted up. He crawled on all fours to get through, immediately turning around to offer David help, holdings hands as he pulled him.

They were only meters away, running back to where traces of their team could still be seen when the building up righted. Neil had to crane his neck as he watched the tower reach its full height. It was coming; he and David had barely reached the shipping containers when the blast shook the earth, a missile flying backward to the sky. When they had finally caught up to everybody Wheeler gave Neil an earful before David held her back with a hand on her shoulder. Exasperated, Wheeler had thrown her arms up and stormed out of the bunker.

“I’m not sure if I would have gotten out in time if you hadn’t come to get me,” confessed David, his face hard.

Neil could only stare, taking in his gratitude. He didn’t like that thought; David dying. It seemed so abstractly distant, yet it was an impossibility that could become tangible any day. He might’ve been human, but to Neil he was like a God, halo and all.

“You would have been fine,” he laughed, forced and dry. “I would have been the one in trouble with my lack of experience.”

“Because of my decision to keep you away from all of it!” David seemed to snap. He noticed how Neil had straightened, and rubbed his hands together in frustration. It was difficult to tell why he simmered, but whatever flame that had ignited was being putout, David already returning to that neutral state of calm. 

David turned and closed their distance with long strides, his shoulders diplomatically stiff. Neil couldn’t look at him, suddenly feeling a little lost at the strangeness of his attention; he wasn’t sure what to do with his free hand other than grasp at his champagne glass. What he yearned for in quiet moments and office matters was for his glances to be reciprocated, however he found that meeting David’s deep brown eyes was easier said than done. How he wanted more than anything to keep those eyes on him, to tease back and stare right and let him know _exactly_ what he was getting at- he had the chance now and all he could do was dart around at the lights. David really was a God; his presence was immense and there was a weight to it that couldn’t be described. Neil couldn’t help but tense up for a second.

“Neil,” he started, pausing to wet his lips in thought. Neil held his breath, settling to glance right at the top of David’s head. “I know you’ve had a difficult time with how I’ve given out your assignments.” He shushed Neil with a patient glare just as the younger started to object. “And I’ll admit, it was on purpose. I thought I could rationalise it away with how . . . young you are. But that’s a lie; you saving me today helped me realise that . . . you’re good out there. On the field. I shouldn’t be holding you back.”

“Meaning?” Neil breathed, unable to tear away.

David struggled to continue, rubbing his brow line. “It means that I’m granting you all-access to our line of work. You won’t be restricted anymore.”

Life filled Neil’s lungs and with a wild grin, he wrapped his arms around David and hoisted him up. He was too distracted by this promotion to really feel just how muscular and strong David was, or that he’d barely lifted David off his tippy-toes with how he was so heavy.

“Thank you!” he exclaimed, his fingers losing grip of his glass. He shook from side to side before letting go, positively radiant as he flashed David a golden smile. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

David was laughing too, his own face breaking out in a that same warmth, the sparkle returning once again. How he wanted to just plant his lips on his, purely out of celebration.

“Does this mean we get to work together more?” Neil asked, his confidence sky rocketing as he teased.

He didn’t miss the way David tried to hide his face behind a hand, those cheeks rosy up close. He mumbled something about no promises and Neil laughed, agreeing that _of course_ nothing was for certain.

From the doorway, a silhouetted figure of a field agent appeared and called them both to come inside, which they called back they would. Once the figure disappeared, David stayed by the balcony for a second more before walking. He looked over his shoulder, motioning for Neil to join him. The younger man felt the flutter in his chest and pushed off the railing, heart floating higher than the building stood, soaring over the glittering lights.


	2. I want you so bad; I think you ought to know  that I intend to hold you for the longest time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the vibes for this chapter are: What You Waiting For by SOMI, and A Little Chaos by Peter Gregson

Ever since David started treating him like a proper agent, he and Neil spent more time together. They were partnered together at a higher frequency than before, which he honestly did not mind; there was a layer of trust built over the course of continually saving the other’s life that they seemed to develop an unspoken bond. Yet that was where everything started and stopped for Neil. He realised, over the course of their missions, that he barely knew David.

Neil was sure that David knew everything about him, that he’d read his file before burning it- if only Neil could do the same. Although, there were times when he would slip up (a rarity among the likes of Ives taking Neil seriously, or Wheeler cracking a joke) and reveal something about himself, like how used to be a CIA agent or how he had siblings in his other life. In those moments, Neil was never sure if he were supposed to share back or if it this was a test, to check his dedication to maintaining inter-agent distance. If it were the latter, then why only Neil was tested while other agents ignored the rule was beyond him.

If he wanted to create a scenario that led to them speaking intimately, Neil wasn’t sure if his crafty brain could come up with it. It was ironic; he could come up with elaborate and absolutely balls to the wall bonkers ideas on plan execution (like one that included a helicopter crashing into a parking lot, and launching someone off a moving motorcycle going up a flight of stairs within the lobby of a casino), most of which actually succeeded (miraculously!), much to everyone’s amazement. So it was little surprising that it took him being in the hospital to topple the first domino that would lead to him and David spending time together.

How it happened wasn’t too serious. Just a chase over the rooftops of a crowded city that went wrong and ended with man down. Other agents managed to overtake, corner, and capture their target, but two men had to carry Neil and his broken leg to the ambulance. Not going to lie: it hurt like a bitch.

By the time everything was set and a cast was placed over his knee, Neil had settled down in his hospital bed, glad to have a window view of the elaborate sky scrapers of the city landscape. Ives, now promoted to lieutenant, took care of the issues with the hospital. They had their debrief in the confines of his room and the other agents were now on their way back to the future. All the while, Neil watched the bustling busyness below.

“Are you okay?” a voice asked from the door way. Neil was already smiling before he even turned his head, locking eyes with David’s worried face. “They said it was pretty serious.”

Neil shrugged and pushed himself up. It was a little difficult since his leg was slung up above the sheets, so he swayed a little. Most of the pain had numbed, thanks to the drugs, so Neil just smiled dumbly. David lingered by the door frame, his suit jacket folded over his arm and his sleeves rolled up from the heat. Neil already started to feel better at the sight of those bare forearms.

“I’ll live. They say I need almost two months of recovery time, so I guess I’m out of commission for a while,” he said, trying to hide his disappointment. Now two years in Tenet, Neil was just starting to flourish- all the momentum he’d been building came to a crashing halt (much like how he broke his knee). “It sucks.”

David was now by the foot of his bed and seemed to be eyeing the free space on the mattress by Neil’s good leg. Reaching over, Neil patted from him to sit, pushing that fluttery feeling down as David did as he was told.

The small talk was light as the afternoon sun started to set, the light once sharp dimming to a golden-red, emphasised by the pollution of the city. The reflection of the neighbouring buildings blinded their eyes, but slowly the sun went down and the many lights of this Eastern city started to flicker. From their room up on high, David pointed out to the different eateries that Neil could go to once his leg was better, or he could get a taste of if someone brought the food to him.

“Someone being you?” Neil teased, already knowing the answer.

David mused him, the corners of his mouth upturning slightly. He started to smile more often, Neil noted, and when he did he always seemed to try hiding it. Just like the laugh he’d heard over a year ago, Neil wished David would feel free to express himself. If not for his own little selfish benefit, then for David’s. Carrying the weight of the future on his back must not be easy, and Neil wished he could lessen the load. Smiling and laughter were medicine in their own right, right?

“I’ll have someone get you something,” David said, clearing his throat and reaching for his suit jacket. He told Neil not to worry about staying at the hospital, they’d used a fake-but-official-looking government ID, so he wouldn’t be disturbed more than necessary. He would also stay at the hospital at the time being to lessen a paper trail for the future, which Neil didn’t mind so much. He couldn’t exactly go anywhere anyway. David handed him the ID. “Your pseudonym here is Robert Barton.”

Neil mouthed the name. He didn’t hate it, but wished they used a different picture of him- he looked like a university still instead of the mid-twenty-something he’d grown into. He mumbled his thanks and lay it on his side tray, gleaming up at David expectantly for more.

They stared at each other until David broke away and stuttered something about getting back to the team. Swallowing his disappointment, Neil replied in like, wishing them luck and hoping they would visit. It would be highly unlikely, but he could dream. Being along for two months meant that this would be a very long stay.

In the days after, nurses came in and tended to his knee, and on occasion would chat with him while he ate. It was through them that Neil knew his charm worked perfectly well, that the tilt of his head or how even how he blinked was still cause for flustered bumblings over words and flushed faces shying away. He might’ve gotten an extra dessert or two, which meant he _still got it_.

Fretting over why that charm was impervious to David’s defence was utter futile nonsense, and Neil knew it. He had it all rationalised out in his head: David can’t show interest because he’s my boss; David isn’t interested because he’s heterosexual; David won’t show interest because it concerns the future. He built the arguments up against himself, two devils on his shoulders fighting it out as he stared into nothingness. Tearing down and finding the fissions in the cons were an optimistic fool’s errand, and Neil fit the bill.

He would glance out the window, down at the far people below and pretend to spot David. The fantasies his mind would conjure of his love taking a break from saving the world to see him, to spend a day accompanying Neil’s every whim in this increasingly claustrophobic room. After a point, he found it perfectly pathetic and thought of flirting some more, before the realisation that these nurses could do more harm to him gave him pause. His knee was getting better, but not at a pace fast enough for his liking.

After a week of no contact with anyone outside of this building, a nurse walked in with a plastic bag. The wonderful aroma caught his attention first as he watched her enter, peering to see what was within.

“Your sister brought you this box of take away. She said that it was your favourite,” the nurse exclaimed, setting the bag and the two disposable tupperwares on his table. “She also said she would come to see you soon.”

Neil did his best not to seem too surprised at the mention of a sister. He could only act along and graciously accept the goods, eagerly pulling apart the bamboo chopsticks to dig in. Indeed, these were favourites of his, being his go-to order at the local Chinese shop. It brought a wave of incredible homesickness and longing, something he hadn’t felt in aeons. Visions of home, of running through Tartu, and then London after they’d moved back to the UK when he was a teenager, with now-faceless friends flashed in his mind. His hold on chopsticks weren’t any better than they had been decades ago.

The only person he could suspect was Wheeler, but while they had gone on many missions, she didn’t know him that well- not on this level at least. This was related to his own past, the one taboo discussion topic that was kept sacred among Tenet agents. It was the one thing he’d respected when it came to pestering and teasing David.

He didn’t have to wonder for long; the very next day, the nurse that greeted him was followed by an incredibly lithe and tall woman. The first thing that struck her about him was how regal she seemed, with her shoulders pushed back and her head tall. She was unlike any woman he’d seen in a while, too unlike Wheeler and Ibiza, with her heels adding to her height, and very dissimilar from the scientist and administrative personnel, with her matching tweed blazer and skirt. Her blonde hair was neatly aside in an up do, and there was this natural radiance. When she smiled at Neil, it seemed like relief.

“Mr. Barton, your sister is here to see you,” the nurse said, turning her body aside to let the taller woman pass through.

“Thank you,” she replied with a gracious bow of the head. When the nurse left, the woman faced Neil, clutching her matching bag, and took slow steps toward him, all the while beaming broadly. “Hello Neil.”

He froze and slowly turned to her with a frown. “How do you know my name?”

She faltered for a second, stopping a meter or two from his bed. He studied her round eyes and creased brow. “David sent for me. I’m your cover for while you are here, you see.” She reached out with her arm. “My name’s Katherine Barton. I’m a friend . . . of David’s.”

Neil would have preferred her to say _a friend of Dorothy’s_. It would have given them something in common apart from the one thing he didn’t want to share. Her coyness did nothing to ease the explosion of negative thoughts that ran through Neil’s mind, trying exactly to ascertain her relationship with the big man upstairs. Slowly, he shook her hand, but held back with squinted eyes as he observed her.

For some reason, she couldn’t seem to stop that grin that creeped up her face. A hand would cover her mouth, as if the motion would reset and she would resume her nonchalantness.

“How are you?” she asked, seating herself by one of the guest chairs beside his bed.

Up close, Neil could see the sharpness of her features contrasted with the softness of her tone. She was so beautiful that he wondered if she were even real; perhaps she was an angel to escort him to the afterlife. Up close, Neil also could see why she was his cover. Despite him being sure they weren’t related, there was a similarity in their differing faces.

It took him a second to realise she spoke. “I’m fine.” She stared at him with expectancy. “Thank you for the food earlier.”

She mouth widened. “It was the least I could do to repay you. When I heard you were in the hospital I just knew I had to get you something. A _friend_ told me your preferred order.” Her eyes lowered and she seemed to laugh inwardly. Neil could feel his irrational dislike grow- that friend no doubt being David. The idea of David discussing personal matters with an outsider stung.

But, wait? How did David know what his favourite dim sum order was? They’d never spent time together _like that_ , even though Neil pestered him constantly about it. His mind cleared for one possible solution: David had been looking into him. If David was searching for things that Neil found pleasure in, he must be planning something. A surprise? Neil felt ready to try walking because he needed to get out there, find him, and kiss him like all holy hell.

Neil had been so preoccupied with thoughts of David, that he didn’t catch the slip Kat made. She’d realised a moment too late and wondered about correcting herself, when it dawned on her that Neil had not noticed. Clutching her purse, Kat leaned forward.

“I could show you around when your leg gets better! We’re in the city for the next month or so,” she exclaimed.

 _We_ \- Neil’s euphoria came crashing back down. A _we_ that was no doubt in reference to her and David, Neil thought depressingly. The emotional whiplash of trying to figure out David’s exact relationship with this woman would be the cause of early balding for Neil. He strained to give her a polite smile, preferring the view of his small, boxy television hanging in the corner of the ceiling to his guest.

“That would depend very much on how my knee heals,” he said, gesturing to its levitated state, “and whether I’ll be pulled into my work.”

Kat waved her hand in dismissal, leaning comfortably back. “Oh nonsense. I insist that the moment you are able, you must join us.” How she was so ready to be cheerful and pleasant and all things Neil didn’t feel like pretending to be was preposterous.

He didn’t know her. He should know, it was his own history. He stared at her with narrow eyes for a moment, searching the recesses of his mind for the memory of her face. Try as he might, he just could not place her. Neil did his best to remember the faces of everyone he met- it was the safest way to ensure he didn’t try flirting with somebody twice nor run into a situation that had previously ended badly. There was a plentiful stock of beautiful faces. It was just that Kat Barton was not a previous tenant, but rather the newest addition to the collection.

Hoping to swerve out of a commitment he didn’t want to make, Neil opted to change the subject.

“So, how do you know David?” he asked, trying to keep the bitterness out of his tone.

Again, with that secretive grin. Kat glanced at her hands, tearing a piece of receipt paper with those short clipped yet manicured fingernails. Her hesitancy built up a tension within Neil that threatened to let out hot steam from his ears, like he were an old locomotive and she a disturbance on the tracks.

“I’ve known him a few years now. He started out as a client on mine,” she answered slowly, flicking her eyes to Neil every few seconds. “After some time we became friends. From there, everything seemed to move very quickly.”

He did not favour that sentence at all. “Sounds exciting- oh, I’m sorry, but my knee-“

Kat got up as Neil hunched over, gripping his thigh in effort to numb the pain. In his attempt to shift his body weight around, to do something to distract the pit from the stomach from growing with every new word that left her mouth, something had twisted in his alleviated leg. A sharp pain, like he’d been stabbed (he could recall the sensation, and this was it, metaphorically and literally speaking).

A nurse rushed in and fluttered around him and Kat watched, concern etched into her features. Neil wasn’t sure what he hated more: her genuine worry for him or how, even when she made a face, she barely had any wrinkles.

Neil suggested she take her leave. Kat disputed, but eventually gave in to his insistence. She promised to return and that she really would love keep him company, to show him around. Unable to refuse, Neil, too, gave in to her insistence. She passed on her card, shook his hand, and was shown the way out by the nurses that had flooded in.

After she’d gone, Neil exhaled a deep breath he hadn’t realised he’d kept. Another mysterious layer to the person that was David. Trying to figure him out, figure her out, and worse off, figure _them_ out was all too much of a headache for Neil. The worst case scenario was that she was his lover, but that felt like a stab in the chest, that Neil decided that she was a good friend. That’s it. A good friend.

It didn’t feel like a convincing argument.

* * *

**_*You have one new voice message*_ **

_“Hey, it’s me. I’m not under any sort of danger at the moment or anything; sorry if this worried you. I just . . . I had to let you know that you should probably come to see Neil while he’s still in the hospital. The date is currently [redacted]. I have the assumption that he’s waiting for you to drop by, and that he probably doesn’t like me very much. [laughs] I don’t know why he should be jealous of me, but anyway . . . I’ll be at [redacted] on [redacted] if you wanted to meet up and discuss this. I’ll be staying here for a while, like you asked . . . See you then.”_

* * *

It was on his way to the rehab room in the hospital, assisted by a nurse who hovered close by, when Neil finally saw David again. He just stood there, clad in a wonderfully dark blue suit and silver tie, a bouquet in hand as his gaze connected with Neil’s. The corners of his mouth upturned in what Neil was certain was a smile- he could see it was so in how David’s little wrinkles around the eye sockets deepened.

After two weeks or so after Kat’s visit, seeing somebody he actually knew was such a relief that Neil also tried to take a step toward the older man on his bad leg. Instead of crashing down, David had rushed forward and grabbed Neil, hoisting him up back onto his feet like it was no problem. Finally, not distracted by anything else and focused on the man generating such warmth by his side, Neil could feel just how strong David was. He felt a little flushed and kept opening his mouth, only to close it again because there was nothing in his mind. Or rather, there were too many things buzzing around in his brain that he couldn’t pick what to say first.

“Hi,” he breathed, lost in the darkness.

“Hey,” he said softly back, “I can take it from here.” David addressed the nurse behind him, who provided David with the directions and instructions as to what Neil had to do. Assurance with David was easy to gain- how could it not be? He held himself with an air of importance and a gravity that lured everyone in a sense of security around him. Together with Neil, they hobbled over to the elevators and pressed the button. “How are you?”

Neil had to fight the urge to just _stare_. He was lonely yet satisfied, bored yet exhilarated, and in such pain that seemed incomparable to the excitement and adrenaline that shot through his veins.

“I’m better.” He gave the barest of side-eye glances as he added, “Especially now that you’re here.”

Staring at the very shiny floors was something Neil had expected David to do. He didn’t ever take compliments and outright flirting very well. Too bad; there was at least three weeks’ worth of pent up flirtation that Neil just had to let out, no matter how abashed and tomato-faced they both would become. Flirting with David was more fun than whatever small-talk he was bound to bring up.

They made their way to the mobility room, weaving in Neil’s little jabs and compliments designed to make David blush with idle talk of the _weather_. For Neil, the weather was hot and wet; they were in Asia, it wasn’t much simpler than that. Yet David found it utterly _fascinating_ and forcefully steered the conversation away from what could be perceived as too interpersonal.

“You get used to the heat once you’re here.” Shrugged Neil as he held on to the parallel bars. His fracture had been healing nicely that the doctor’s had replaced his cast with a more flexible brace. During those first few weeks he could feel pools of sweat deep in the crevices of the cast, where he could reach without causing more agony. When he’d gotten the switch, it felt like he could breathe again. “They have air conditioners everywhere,”

David snuffed a laugh out of his nose. He stood at the end of the exercise bar, ready to catch Neil if he crumpled again. Sweat stains were barely visible on his dark suit, with his skin barely perspiring. If he spent much time outside in the city, it did not show.

“How are things on the home front?” Neil asked, testing the weight placed on his leg.

Letting a deep exhale escape, David rubbed the back of his neck. “We had a mission that needed your lock-picking skills.” After a beat, Neil glanced up, expecting more to be said. But he didn’t elaborate, eyes trained on Neil’s brace instead.

“I see,” he replied, unsure how to take it. Yes, Tenet’s fundamental rule was to supress information, but Neil figured it directed to more identity-based stuff, not the status of a mission. “I could teach you if you’d like?”

“You’ve already taught me plenty,” David said, a carefully masked expression covering up the _something_ in his voice.

Neil had to avert his eyes to hide his confusion. Could David have picked up his skills just by observing him out in the field? If so, then that meant he had been watching Neil closely, and that brought a flutter to Neil’s diaphragm. If not, then it was a slip; if so, then there was a future worth looking to.

“I could teach you a lot more, if you’d let me?” he suggested, raising his eyes as he kept his head lowered. He cursed the lighting of the room, for he wasn’t sure if David had swallowed or simply strained his neck.

“Neil-” David started, keeping his gaze low.

“I know, I know. Just teasing,” he laughed, the sound hollow like his heart.

They days following were a repetitious endeavour, where, like clockwork, David came by around midday to pick Neil up for some leg therapy. Always threading that fine line of speaking cordially whilst maintaining secrecy, Neil began to feel better with each passing day. Not just in his joints and bones, which in all honestly were healing up nicely, but in his mood.

David would stay even after the rehab sessions, sitting in one of the chairs, chatting with Neil until it was dark and he was forced to leave. It was a win-win scenario in Neil’s eyes; it was the perfect chance to get David to know him better, and in turn try to learn more about David. With about another month until his leg was fully healed, Neil had all the time in the world.

David brought board games, books, DVD stacks. Each new thing gave Neil some kind of insight into David’s mind; he wasn’t competitive in the slightest, not even when it came to UNO. When he won at monopoly (because he’d somehow managed to _win_ at monopoly), he didn’t gloat, only laughing at Neil’s voluminous disbelief. He seemed to be doing that a lot more: laughing. It sent a silent thrill up Neil every time.

When it came to the films brought, there were DVDs of films that Neil knew were classics but just had not seen. As they covered the blinds and pushed the disks into the player, they huddled to watch those oldies on the small screen. Neil pointed out the inaccuracies of the science, that physics just didn’t work that way. David’s laughter at how heated Neil became when they’d watched old sci-fi films rang clear in the reflections of his mind. The books were all biography-types books, of world leaders, historical figures, and some quasi-fictional retellings of famous people’s personal lives.

“I didn’t peg you as a Virginia Woolf kinda guy,” Neil chimed, holding up a tattered copy of _Orlando: A Biography_.

“I enjoy good prose,” David replied, grinning at him as he pulled more thick books out of his pack. “I figured you would like it too.”

Feeling his face flush up, Neil turned his attention to read the blurb. He loved how perceptive David was, and at night, after David had left, Neil spent as long as he could pouring over those pages. When the night got a hold of him, he placed his bookmark in, clutched the book to his chest, and fell asleep.

It must have been an accumulation of all his worries and stress melting away from these few weeks, because Neil slept the heaviest and had the best rest he enjoyed in a long time. When he arose from such a slumber, the first feeling that bubbled to the surface was joy.

This joy was further exacerbated at the sight of his guest sitting in the corner, reading one of the many books he’d brought with him. Neil blinked the sleep away to admire him. His face was half obscured behind the cover, but from what Neil could see his brows were knit together and a hand had made its way to support his chin. He barely noticed Neil roll his head and reach for his phone.

It was nearly noon, which explained the intensity of the sun forcing its way through the blinds. And that David was here on-time. Reliable, sturdy David. Like an oak tree that was a century old, David was evermore and provided cover for all he cared for. He was the cool shade in a sweltering summer’s day, the thicket that protected you from hail. Always there, ready to save you.

Despite noting, every time, the hot weather and sweatiness, David did not change out of his suits. Even now, he wore a button up cream shirt with a salmon pink jacket draped over the back of his chair. The loafers and trousers worn were very businessman-like, not at all what Neil expected for a hospital visit. It was a subtle reminder that their work was never over.

David flipped a page of the book and pushed his circular reading glasses further up his nose. Something that Neil would come to recognise later, much, much, later, was the different ways David pushed his rims up depending on his mood. With his book, it was a clear index finger to bridge of frames push up the nose type of deal; if he was reaching a particularly good part and felt excitable, he would merely brush his glasses up his face, too engrossed. It was what he did now as he failed to realise he was being watched.

Neil smiled to himself at David’s obliviousness. Once he pushed himself up and cleared his throat did he capture his attention.

“Hey.”

“Good afternoon.” David shut his book and uncrossed his legs. There was a rather radiant excitement etched into how his eyes seemed to gleam and glisten.

“What is it?” Neil asked, grinning himself at this infectious energy.

David placed the book on the cabinet and walked up to Neil’s bed. Over the weeks, Neil hadn’t needed the ceiling sling anymore, and with the rehab, his knee felt just as it had prior the accident. He was starting to overstay his welcome, so he was ecstatic when David announced that he could be discharged in the next week.

“Oh, finally!” he exclaimed, letting his head hit his pillow. When he saw that David still had more to say, he faced him. “What else?”

“You up for a walk outside?”

There was something a little bit cryptic about him, but then again, when was there anything but. Neil had no reason to oppose, and with the all-clear from the doctors, Neil left claustrophobia to re-enter the world.

The city was just as chaotic as he’d imagined from his view from high above, and as they entered the market place his mouth watered. They sat on plastic stools and ate out of disposable bowls, Neil listening to David speak Cantonese with near perfection. Yet another thing to filter in his David folder. He wanted to ask, mouth open to speak as David handed him their food.

“When I was in school, we were allowed to take a foreign language. I really had to fight to learn Cantonese formally,” David said as he slurped his soup. He glanced up briefly at Neil’s wide eyes. “My step-mother was from Taiwan. I wanted to make her feel more included.”

 _Of course you did_ , Neil fawned, spiritually clutching his heart. If this was a test to prove his loyalty to the rules, _fuck it_ , he thought. It was too sweet a moment to be ignited by bureaucracy.

“My mother had to hire an Estonian babysitter to tutor me when we moved to back London, because I insisted on taking Estonian for my GCSE’s,” Neil said softly, smiling into his siu mai.

David raised his small ceramic tea cup, and Neil met it in toast.

They spent some time after wandering around, entering temples and seeing the sights. Come evening, with the sky slowly burning into a hazy red and pink, they found themselves at the harbour, gazing as the water was set aflame.

Even though he’d only worn a single layer shirt, Neil found that he’d nearly soaked it through. He loathed the idea of hugging David now, lest he transfer all that was disgusting to him too. Yet David stood so close that their arms touched, and when he wanted to point out something on the horizon, David’s hand slid to Neil’s back, pointing with his other side. His back was soaked, but his hand resting lightly, millimetres from his skin, thrilled Neil.

Sunsets always were more beautiful when you could share them with somebody.

He also became acutely aware that as he stared at the disappearing sun, David had shifted his eyes to rest on Neil. His heart beat just a little bit faster.

“Neil, I’ve been wanting to ask you something.” Slowly turning his head, Neil locked eyes with David. His heart hammered hard that he could hear it in his ears, and he wished he hadn’t, but for a second his eyes flickered to David’s lips. David seemed to struggle himself, running his tongue over his bottom lip before biting it. It took incredible self-restraint for Neil to remain silent as he waited expectantly, biting his cheeks to keep a smile from forming.

David took a breath.

“Would you like to meet my son?”

_What?_

Neil’s jaw dropped just as quickly as his eyebrows furrowed. How did he always manage to misread situations when it came to _him_?

“Yes.”

The voice that spoke was his own but he had no recollection of speaking. Together, they made their way to one of many restaurants that lit up the streets, Neil trailing slightly behind. It left a bitter taste in the back of his mouth that where they’d admired the sunset had been so close to where David brought them to meet his . . . It took a bit of effort to unclench his fist.

David entered a restaurant that greeted them with dark wooden floors and the ramblings of guests speaking at the highest volumes possible. Neil felt just as headless as the poultry that hung on the window display, and as trapped as the seafood in their rectangular glass cages. All around them were tables at least a meter in diameter, covered in red cloth and adorning glass turntables with dishes. Never before had he related to the gaping faces of the fish that stared at him on the dinner plates.

Before them, leading the way to the second floor, where things were much quieter and partitioned into private sections, was a waitress in a simple white button-up and black pants. Neil had barely noticed that David was being led himself through this restaurant. As he marched, he caught glimpses of the other guests. Groups as large as those below were gathered around in such large tables that Neil was certain two glass turntables could fit. Piles of crab shell littered the floor from where they’d been smashed on the table tops.

While this floor was generally quieter than the ground level, they were just as rowdy. A waiter opened a door just as Neil passed by, letting the sounds of Cantonese and intense screeching of tired children escape briefly. It was utterly strange when the door closed and all that Neil could hear left were muffles.

In a section all the way at the end of the hall, the waitress turned and gestured for them to enter. Neil was only a few steps behind and dreaded to see who lit such adoration in his face.

By the door, he saw was that beautiful and incredible tall woman. What was her name again? Oh, right, his “sister”; Katherine Barton.

“David, Neil, you made it!” she cheered, scooting her chair back to stand. Now she was out of her matching tweed outfit and into something more appropriate for casualwear.

Usually, David’s now-familiar laughter sent a warmth through Neil’s veins, but he could only process so much. When David had said “his son”, Neil felt everything go cold. As much as he loved loving David, the idea that this man had a family felt like a stone being dropped into a pond. He wouldn’t allow himself to tear apart family.

To see Kat had first been another douse of freezing air hitting his lungs. All of his suspicions, even the ones he’d forgotten after her visit, flooded back in storm. Of course this intelligent, charming, and all-around gorgeous woman had won the heart of a man so spectacular that the stars could not compare. Of course David’s heart was already taken. Of course, of course, of course.

Then he realised there was somebody else.

“Uncle David!” the boy, yelled. He scraped his chair back and launched himself into those strong arms. From his height, he seemed to be about fourteen, tall enough that his chin could rest on David’s shoulder. The boy had blonde curls and pale skin, looking very much like his mother, rather than his . . . father.

“Max! You’ve grown even more than the last time I saw you!” David ruffled the boy’s hair and beamed at him with such love that Neil had to take a step back.

“Uncle David?” Neil breathed.

Kat and David exchanged a kiss on each cheek. It was the last straw; Neil excused himself for some fresh air.

“What’s wrong?” David asked, slowly approaching him outside. The road had closed, chairs and tables spilled out onto the street and occupied any space left if a car wished to drive through. People were eating outside, so Neil had taken it upon himself to stand on the opposite end of the road with the parked cars. “Hey, Neil.”

“I don’t want to get in the way.” He turned away from David, jaw clenching like all hell.

“Get in the way- Neil, I think there’s a misunderstanding.”

“What is there to misunderstand. You’re obviously that boy’s father figure- I just wish I’d known that you were married. Otherwise I wouldn’t have spent all this time-“

“Married? Neil, oh, god, _no_.” The incredulity in his voice was the only reason Neil glanced over his shoulder. “Kat and I aren’t together. Not like that.”

Neil frowned. “I know that in our line of work, sharing is frowned upon. But I need to know what you mean, because you’ve brought me this far.”

David scratched his head as his eyes scanned the background for a way to explain. “I can’t tell you any details, I’m sorry. But what I can tell you is that Kat is strictly a friend. Nothing more. After we met, she wanted her son to have a better male role model than what her husband had been.” David struggled to keep restraint. “I became that.” At Neil’s silence, David sighed. “I wanted to tell you about them because . . . there are those in Tenet who want to see Kat and Max removed because of who they are, and I have to prevent that. But I can’t be everywhere at once, so I want your help. I trust you Neil, more than I do anyone else in our organisation.”

Just as he stopped for breath, Neil quickly leaned forward and pressed his lips on his. They were as soft and light as cotton candy, and there was a rush, an incandescent high that made Neil’s head spin. But, as quickly as his spontaneous action had been, Neil senses clicked back into place and he pulled away.

“I- oh my god, I’m sorry-“ he started to stutter, staring into the middle distance.

A finger touching his own lips, David seemed lost in thought as he glanced up at those blue eyes. He held Neil’s shaking hands and took a step closer. When he took Neil’s chin in his hand and levelled their connection, a wide, toothy smile spread his face. His fingers brushed the stubble that began to form.

“Neil,” he breathed, leaning in and kissing Neil, with as much softness and sweetness. When he pulled away, leaving Neil somewhat dazed and out of breath, their foreheads touched. “I’m not making any promises. What we do doesn’t allow for such things, but I want you to know that this is a decision I haven’t made lightly. I trust you, completely. Wholeheartedly.”

Despite himself, Neil giggled and cupped David’s cheek. “You’re not saying this to shut me up, are you?” he asked jokingly. Their laughter ran in sync as David ensured that this was for real. Neil’s eyes softened and he placed his other hand on David’s side. “You’ve had my life ever since you recruited me.”

He leaned down and they kissed again. There was more this time, not quite a promise but somewhere thereabouts. Mutual and shy, but also a confirmation of a hunger that Neil had been certain was one-sided. They were glad for the semi-privacy the cars provided, their bodies half obscured in darkness and half highlighted by the lanterns.

Nothing else had to be said as they made their way back to Max and Kat. With his heart in David’s hand, the pain in his knee a dull ache, and head clouded with splendid aromas and thoughts, this became one of the fondest memories he would ever have. And there was a clarity that made itself known above all else.

Neil would do anything for him; he trusted David to the battlefield ~~and back~~.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope that you all have a Merry Christmas, a Happy Holidays, and Happy New Year!!


	3. Maybe this won't last very long; but you feel so right and I could be wrong

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Vibes: Marjorie by Taylor Swift, Still Don't Know My Name by Labrinth, and Timebomb by Walk The Moon

In the grand scheme of things, celebrating the wins were important for agent morale. Confidence ensured missions succeeded; just like any company, those who worked to the bone required moments of fun. Neil found himself, quite literally, at the centre of the party- especially since his position within the organisation solidified with his relationship with David.

That was not to over-represent the celebratory events that happened within Tenet. It was only that, when agents know each other on a single-name basis, with those names being questionable and all of them being officially, well, dead, there weren’t exactly many chances to socialise with your co-workers. Christmas parties, office parties, even birthday parties were not permitted. Only congratulatory _you-ain’t-dead parties_ ; that was Ives’ name for them, usually said with a huff and frown before he locked himself in his room.

This particular night, the Red and Blue teams were at a company-mandated rave in the heart of Berlin. The mission took place nearby and Berlin was the best place to layover while the future sorted out the details. Deep underground, in a world war two bunker-esque space, Tenet agents dotted the dance floor beside regular Berliners. Those brave enough to hook up with the locals disappeared from the scene, hand in tow as they decided to take the night elsewhere (which was mostly advised against because, well, they weren’t allowed to maintain contact with outsiders).

In some ways, Neil wondered how this atmosphere wasn’t triggering to some of his fellow agents; the strobing, flashing lights, the body-thumping music that shattered his ear drums like the smattering of bullets- even the tightly packed dance floor with bodies pressed against him. While his mind threatened to make these thoughts into actual worries, Neil couldn’t help but be lost in his own sensory overload.

For just a moment, he was twenty years-old and a university student again, sustaining himself on a diet of croissants, alcohol and coffee. In his mind’s eye he could picture it all again, being back in Manchester with his classmates for a night of sin and ecstasy (both that euphoric feeling and the drug). The music wasn’t all too different either. But where the nostalgia ended was the mood. Those raves and parties and clubs he frequented had an aura of youthful excitement. It was like that comedian had once said: “tonight’s the night, and we only have tonight”. It couldn’t have been farther from the sombre truth.

Sweat dripped from his forehead, the tightness in his chest spilling into the first wave of panic. When he opened his eyes, the only sight his eyes could focus on were the technical apparatuses that held the moving lights, suspended from the ceiling, and he was filled with a provoking thought: that they would fall on him on any moment.

Suddenly, he couldn’t breathe and became acutely aware that he was in the centre of the throng. Strangers and agents alike swayed and jumped to the sounds, jostling him around. The exit blurred with the walls and Neil couldn’t tell directions apart anymore. Faces flashed by, and he glimpsed those he recognised for split seconds before they turned and he was alone again. His steps felt slow and long as he pushed the stifling air and people away. The music had faded away in his mind, the hard ba-bump of his heart in his ears, vibrating his body more than the music ever did.

Somehow, he managed to make it to the outskirts of the thrall of bodies and stumbled up the stairs to the narrow hall. People entangled into a single presence attacked him on all sides, and somewhere in his mind he knew that they weren’t agents, at least not agents together, but that didn’t stop his jealousy of their openness. Oh god, where was David?

Neil didn’t bother grabbing his coat from the lockers, bursting through the inner and outer doors of the club. The chill of the air iced his lungs, like he smacked right into a freezer. He leaned against the grimy red brick wall and inhaled deep gulps of breath like he were a drowned man resurfacing. Eyes shut tight, Neil up righted himself and leaned back, counting the lengths and duration of his breaths so they lasted longer and longer each time.

“Your first time?” a voice asked behind him, leaning by the same wall.

He glanced and was surprised to find Wheeler, her thick coat wrapped around her, with a cigarette in her hands.

“What?” he asked, partially for the question and partially because he had trouble hearing her. Her voiced seemed too soft compared to the boom from within.

She gestured with her chin. A puff of white cloud trailed her words; he couldn’t tell if it was from the cigarette or the cold. “Is this your first time having a panic attack?”

It wasn’t; Neil had had panic attacks when he was younger, usually study-related, but it had been several years since the last one. He shook his head. Wheeler inhaled and the cigarette tip lit up in that amber glow.

“Good.” She exhaled and leaned against her side, watching him. “It’s usually the hardest when it’s their first time.”

“Do you comfort them as warmly as this,” he asked, cracking a smile despite himself. The panic was subsiding, the sweat that gleamed on his skin sheened as he adjusted to the cold. Now, he wished he’d brought out his coat; his pits started to warm again.

Wheeler chuckled and offered him her cigarette. He hesitated for a moment before accepting it, figuring that it probably wasn’t all too different from smoking a spliff. Somehow, he felt his core heat up, and relaxed even more.

“I try to be nice when I’m on baby-sitting duty,” Wheeler said, her voice light and playful in a way that Neil found contrived. “But I worry I’m getting too old to be dealing with drunk idiots…” It was more as an aside than an actual comment. With two fingers she took the cigarette back and lit it up. “Let’s just say, this is why Ives doesn’t like joining us.”

“I thought it was because he’s got a stick shoved up his ass?” Neil joked, huddling closer to her. Her coat wasn’t too large, but she opened up and enveloped him in a half-hug. She was much shorter, but as he wrapped his own arms around her, her warmth radiated off her skin and he was glad she was here. “And if you’re feeling like you’re getting old, you certainly don’t look it.” He nudged her side, revelling in the bashful way she turned away from him.

He meant it. She could have been 26 or 42 and he wouldn’t have been able to guess. The only way he could tell that she was ageing was how her person and aura shifted. There were days she seemed filled with timelessness, of that youthful optimism and unquestionable complicity in orders. Those were the moments he felt she was shiny, all brand new. But then, what he witnessed with increasing awareness was a tiredness that came with either age or worse: experience. He’d had speculations of how he were interacting with two different Wheelers of varying ages, always never in the same room but enjoying the company of her colleagues nonetheless.

If he squinted, he could make out ghosts of wrinkles by the corners of her eyes, but they couldn’t be indicative of her age. And since he was still quite tipsy, he leaned down and gave a quick peck to her cheekbone. Her scolding glare sent him laughing.

There were few people parked outside the alleyway of the club doors. Those few were several meters away, figures in the darkness with dubious intent as to what exactly they were doing; there was at least one couple entangled together, and a group swapping a bottle of Captain Morgan between them, the crystallised air under the streetlamps evidence of their laughter. So far, nobody he recognised.

“Ives follows the rules, like the Boss.” She flicked the ashes at the rain-trodden pavement. “They aren’t the types to risk inter-agent closeness because of _empathy_.”

Neil felt himself flush at the mention of David and ducked his head involuntarily. He didn’t see the knowing smile that played Wheeler’s lips as she caught his neck redden.

It was true that, for the most part, David disliked sharing. After meeting David’s son, Neil had the fortune to drop by and visit them whenever they were in London headquarters, truly befriending Kat. With his misunderstanding now a point of embarrassment and something Kat liked to tease, Neil understood why David cared for her. Kat was a little broken, and would turn quiet at the mention of her ex-husband, but he could see how she picked up the pieces of herself every day and glued them tight. He had the utmost respect for her.

As such, that was the only part of David’s life that Neil had any sort of grasp on. There were the observations he made while of missions and the down time in between, where their moments were stolen and hidden. David never drank while on the clock; diet coke was his drink of choice. Something about the caffeine or something helping him stay alert, Neil wasn’t sure.

He yearned for more, to know this man as well as he knew himself, if not better.

“And you, Agent Wheeler?” Neil smiled, nay smirked, at her, calling for the cigarette back with the wiggle of his index and middle fingers. “Do you fear connection?” The scoff and glance away brought out a bubble of laughter from within him. With a last puff, the cigarette shrivelled to ash and as much as his entire job was to ‘save the world’, Neil let the tan-coloured bud slip from his fingers. To further hide his _atrocity_ , he crushed it under his boot, enjoying the crunch of wet gravel.

Now they were two people sharing a coat outside a club instead of regular chain smokers. Neil had half a sober mind to go back inside and retrieve warmth that was more accommodating for his height, but the idea tugged at the back of his mind that if he left, there would be a finality of the night. And he kinda wanted to spend some time with Wheeler.

Out of the agents he spent the most time in briefing rooms and on the field, Wheeler was the most elusive for him to grasp. David had taken him moments to understand; it was hard not to see through that sombre expression that he was burdened with a greater power. Ives took a few months to get the hang of, especially since he barely socialised, even at meals. But that tough guy exterior seemed to be a reflection of his interior, and Neil knew Ives would be fun to tease. Other agents like Ibiza, Taylor, Amos- they all were knowable to him, with open hearts despite the way they were meant to shut down from human connection.

They couldn’t help themselves when a serious situation required respite with a joke, nor hide the pain being in the field caused. They were all supposed to be Teflon, hard as steel even with all that protection. It also helped that Neil could roughly gauge their ages. It helped break the ice without having to drill down.

Yet, there just seemed to be a touch more to Wheeler. Neil could observe it currently in her slumped shoulders and heavy eye bags. With her shaky sigh and glassy stare into the middle distance, she seemed intent on being unfocused. If given the opportunity, Wheeler looked like she would poof; disappear with the condensation. Not fragile, no. Just tired. He wondered where in this cycle of time she was at, if it were the beginning and she was just starting out and depressed. The alternative, that she was near her ‘end’ seemed . . . too macabre for his intoxicated mind.

“Well, do you?”

“Do I what?”

“Fear connection?”

She rolled her eyes at him and shook her head, but said nothing else. For some reason, he was reminded of his primary school teacher.

“Then could I ask you something?” He waited until she raised her eyebrows and pursed her lips; a non-committal agreement. “Why ‘Wheeler?’”

“What do you mean?” She turned to him, her gaze turning to steel.

Neil shrugged. “Y’know, why the name ‘Wheeler?’”

Wheeler stared down at him, despite him being about a head taller. He wasn’t sure if it was the alcohol rubbing his senses away but there was something in her expression he couldn’t interpret, flashing for just a moment before she pulled a new stick out of a pack.

“Where’s your sense of professionalism, Neil?” she replied after a time, that teasing tone on edge. She pulled out a her own lighter. With her frozen fingers, it took her a few tries to get the fire up and place the tip. She inhaled a breath. They stood, generating warmth for the other for a few minutes in silence.

Somewhere, further down, a couple were having sex. And while regular, sober Neil would turn away out of decency, current tipsy, not-quite-drunk Neil only chuckled. Unfazed by the spurred activity that took place in their vicinity, Wheeler glanced up at Neil, seemingly pondering before she puffed out that white smoke.

“David was the one who recruited you, right?” she asked, her grip around his waist a little tighter. He noticed how she’d avoided his question.

“Yeah?” he answered, lips pouting with confusion. It had been several years now since his resurrection into Tenet, but he remembered the day well.

His last day as a member of MI6, a Tuesday if he recalled correctly. The building he worked in had been stormed a day after they’d received a new piece of interesting war rubble. It was extraordinary, because the carbon dating of the wall-piece dated it by decades, only it wasn’t from the past. His superior at the time was the only other person allowed near it, and she instructed him to not touch anything without gloves. She was the leading expert in the field and explained to him that the rubble was not the first thing found. When she’d led him to the basement levels, he’d been in awe of the immense size of the warehouse that kept these future-items. The next day was the raid; he’d “died”, met David; the rest was history.

“Why?” Neil asked. Had he not been so floaty, he would have been studying her micro expressions.

Her shrug was nonchalant and neutral, like it was just an interesting thought she sought to corroborate. “Just wondering,” was her answer . He continued to eye her with a healthy smidgen of suspicion, a wide grin creeping up as he wiggled his shoulders against her.

“C’mon, Wheeler. Wheelie. Wheels. _Tell me why_?” he sang more than queried. A rush of success flooded him as Wheeler cracked a soft laugh, and he squeezed her tight until she squeaked. “Since we’re in a sharing mood, c’mon!”

“Fine, fine, fine!” she exclaimed, just toeing the line of pulling back her Commander façade. Like Ives, Wheeler had a hard front that was especially required during missions and when they were actually doing their jobs. However, unlike Ives, there were times she joked and teased back, like she was an actual person and not some benevolent agent whose life was solely dedicated to this greater, larger than life cause.

Neil made a show of bending low so that they were eye-to-eye. He made sure to do it in such a condescendingly funny way that he couldn’t blame her when Wheeler shoved him and threatened to take away his coat privileges.

“I see how you follow him around, issall.”

Neil paused, his veins freezing, and not form the cold. “That’s it?” he gaged, struggling to maintain eye contact when those bright blue eyes blazed with gaiety.

“Yes, that is it, Neil.”

“Well I don’t know what that has to do with anyth-“

“It’s so _obvious_ , Neil,” Wheeler stared up at him pointedly. “Your crush on the Boss is one of the most recycled pieces of gossip I have had to hear over and over. You need to work on looking at him without that all that longing. Otherwise, your love is going to be the death of you.” While still staring at him, she raised her cigarette to her lips and took a long drag. “How he ever let you into the agency is beyond me. Your sense of professionalism is non-existent,” she, shaking her head in exaggerated disappointment. “Please, for the love of God, work on it. If he notices, there’s no telling what would happen. I doubt he’d pull you from fieldwork- we need your lock picking skills, and sometimes your plans do work out, even if they are sometimes bat shit insane.” She kept going on, fading away in Neil’s mind as she spoke more to herself than to him.

He knew that he wasn’t exactly subtle about it, but for his feelings to be constant scandal? What was Tenet if not a glorified secondary school? He chanced a look at Wheeler, who’d stopped talking and seemed secure in the silence. If it was only how much Neil felt for David, the _Boss_ , then there was nothing to worry about. He flirted with other agents and administrative members from time to time, but now he’d have to up the ante.

Nobody was allowed to learn of his relationship with David. Nobody.

He declined the offer of a drag, thinking it was time to clear his head.

The group that exchanged a bottle of Captain Morgan had left, their chatter softening. One of them probably dropped the empty bottle, since the smash of glass was followed by hollers and cajoling. Neil wondered who they were, and wished he had the option to go out and catch up with them, to feel young- not that he wasn’t still young. He hadn’t even hit thirty yet, goddamn.

He was about to suggest going inside when Wheeler broke the silence.

“My husband _was_ a physicist,” Wheeler said, letting a deep exhale out. She met his eyes so that he understood the past tense. “He used to love time travel theories because of the possibilities. He could never shut up about Wheeler and Feynman’s absorber theory.” Her voice was shaky, but there was a ghost of a smile as she spoke.

He could only glance at the water that reflected the streetlights further down. “Oh.”

Wheeler took another hit and breath go. “Ask me again.”

Neil faced her, brows furrowed. He met her raised eyebrow, one tear-stained cheek, which she wiped away with her thumb, and challenging expression. “What?” he asked, bewildered.

“Ask me. Again.” She didn’t break eye contact with him

“Uh, why’d you call yourself ‘Wheeler?’” he asked slowly, leaning back to watch how her posture changed.

Wheeler shook her head, her hair bouncing softly as she settling her gaze in a spot behind Neil, inhaled, and this time there was the sun in her expression. “My father runs a car repair shop. I used to work there in high school after class and it’s a nickname he gave me.” She returned to that quiet stillness and raised an eyebrow in challenge. “Ask me again.”

“I get it.”

He believed the cheer in her voice, the brightness in how her eyes crinkled like how she was recalling a memory. When she stared at him he understood better what she was getting at. No matter how close he would want to get, she wouldn’t let him. In that sense, she was as private as Ives was.

“Why ‘Neil?’” she asked back, like she was setting out bait. It wasn’t malicious, but more a disappointed scolding.

 _Because it’s my name_.

Neil went back inside the club and retrieved his coat.

* * *

They technically were billed with separate rooms, but the extra key card Neil found in his hotel packet had sent a thrill before the mission began. It was exciting to risk everything for _him_ , and while he loathed stories where plotlines centred on a couple’s secrecy, he was revelling in it himself. The clock that hung in the overly lit hallway in the sixteenth floor of this two-three-four star hotel indicated that it was closer to morning than night.

Nobody was in sight, and Neil made sure to enter as silently as a key card beep would let him. The stark contrast left him standing in the darkness for a few moments, blinking rapidly to adjust to the light. Slowly, the layout of the room, with the tiny walkway and bathroom door to the left, materialised into something he could recognise. Further down, the large queen sized bed revealed the lumps beneath the thick blanket. From the sound of his steady breathing and occasional snores, he was fast asleep. Grinning, Neil did his best to toe-off his sneakers and let his coat fall onto one of the antique armchairs.

He crawled on the mattress and wrapped his arms around the sleeping figure, his cold lips finding their way to the warmth of David’s neck. Neil laughed into David’s skin at the drowsy _mrrmph_ and scrunched up his face as he buried his nose in the of David’s ear, playfully biting the earlobe.

“Hi,” David croaked, rolling around smiling into the kiss with his eyes still closed. “What time is it?”

“Early,” he murmured, sending kisses trailing from David’s mouth up to his nose, his forehead, his temples. “I’m exhausted.”

“Good night?” David asked, eyes still shut.

“It was okay,” Neil confessed, letting himself just drape over David’s side. He smiled at the feeling of David’s lips on the top of his head, returning with a plant on David’s exposed chest. “But it just got even better.”

“I’m glad you had fun,” David worked through a yawn.

Neil said nothing, observing how even dead tired his beloved was just so god-fucking-damn beautiful. There was something just so unbelievably sexy about him in Neil’s eyes. Maybe it was the beard, giving him that powerful stature of somebody who knew what he was doing, or perhaps the strong body that had its own stories with each scar Neil traced with icy fingers. No, that wasn’t it. As he kissed David’s shoulder, it finally clicked.

What was so attractive about David was his brain. That tactician’s gaze whenever he was deep in thought about a mission, how with a pen to his mouth Neil could see the years of experience and wisdom churning and burning, deep in thought. How many years had he been doing this already? For as long as he’d known him, there had not been any hesitancy in plan execution, like he knew the cost of what would happen beforehand- which, in all honestly, was quite probably the case. Nonetheless, it was _hot_.

“Neil,” David laughter edging the warning. Neil stopped his wandering hands and kisses, leaving his chin on David’s hip. “C’mon.” He pat the spot beside him and attempted to peer at Neil through heavy eyelids. He was barely watching as Neil shed off his shirt and trousers to wiggle under the covers. The younger was freezing and took advantage of the comfy warmth David generated, intertwining their feet together. David let out a pained sound and shut his eyes, willing himself to go back to sleep.

Neil let himself be surrounded by arms the size of his head and made note to slow down his breathing, to simply enjoy being held. Situations like this were far and few in between, with most lodgings being dormitory in nature, or just in such a closed-knit space that if anyone were to see him enter _The Boss’s_ room, they would be found out immediately. But here? Neil sighed and rubbed David’s itchy beard against his own cheek. Here, they could just _be_.

As he was in the process of letting his mind shut down, the conversation he’d had that night resurfaced. How distant it was, him huddling with Wheeler against the freezing temperatures, now just a memory to the bliss and safety of this private room. His eyes were wide and he stared at his beloved’s peaceful face.

Feeling the gaze, David cracked an eye open and frowned. “What?”

“It’s nothing, really.” He disguised his shaking head as a snuggle. _You need to work on looking at him without all that longing. Your love will be the death of you_. He wanted those words out of his head. That kind of thinking never got him anywhere, and instead he pressed against his love. “It’s just… I was wondering… if your name is actually David?”

That got his attention. The older man rolled over so they were face to face, his hand in Neil’s hair. His fingers stroked the back of Neil’s head. There was this pensive expression, not unlike the one made when somebody, (Neil), suggested a risky operation plan.

“I know about standard operating procedure barring us from actually revealing our identities, but I want to know.” It was a selfish ask, and he knew it. Under normal circumstances he wouldn’t dare ask, but they were entangled together in secrecy from not only other agents but Time itself. If he couldn’t have this here, then there was no good time.

Plus, David was the one who recruited him, he’d probably read the dossier MI6 file. He knew of Neil’s identity; why shouldn’t Neil be on the same footing?

“Where is this coming from?” He didn’t sound annoyed, at least not to Neil’s rose-coloured filter.

“I dunno,” he lied, burying his head into his pillow. “I just want to have more pieces of you with me.”

The sigh that escaped David’s lips were impossible to read, and Neil could only smile pleadingly, cheekily. He cherished the bits he held near his heart, oftentimes recounting the things he knew about David when things got particularly bad in the field. It wasn’t that he didn’t know the organisation’s mantra by heart, _ignorance is our ammunition_ , but he just did his best to skate loopholes around it. The theoretically possibilities also held him by a leash and Neil would do the maths and philosophy in his head whenever he had down time (which in Tenet, was not a lot).

“You have me, as I am.” David spoke into his hair, planting a soft and long kiss on Neil’s temple. “I’m sorry; this is all you’ll get.”

Neil nudged him in the ribs, grinning into the kiss they shared as he attempted to stop David from protesting in pain. “Don’t pull that. You know more about me than I you. It’s only fair.”

The glimmer in David’s eyes dimmed and he glanced away. “I don’t.” Then, at the disbelieving frown that permeated Neil’s young face, David faced him fully, doing his best to convey as much seriousness as he could through crusty eyes. “I really don’t. Your file was mostly confidential, limited to what I was allowed to know about you at the time. _I_ don’t even know if your real name is ‘Neil.’” He held his finger to Neil’s open mouth. “And I shouldn’t know.” He offered a small smile, thumb softly pressing Neil’s chin.

Feigning a bite at the thumb, Neil settled back to sleep. His brain kept whirring, wondering about the implications David said meant, and if prying something he would want to risk. As his eyes trailed down from the circular lights to the flat screen T.V. that hung from the wall, dragging his gaze up the blankets and at David’s now sleeping frame, Neil hugged his love tighter and did his best to stop thinking so much.

* * *

 _David likes to read classic literature. David likes to play checkers but not chess. David’s favourite colour is silver_.

Scratch that last fact. Silver is what encased bullets as they shot out of the rifles from both the M16s Neil was currently holding and the guns that came from those returning fire. Surrounded by dense jungle, the only ones who could hear the symphony of bullets and artillery fire were the soldiers and fleeing animals.

In the briefing room, the mission had been described as fairly simple. The team was made up of thirty forward-moving agents and twenty inverted agents, with Commander Wheeler as the primary leader of Red team and Ibiza in charge of the Blue team. They were to dress in camouflage and attire appropriate to combat potential armed forces- if there would even be one.

“This is an extraction mission.”

Taylor asked the question: “Who’s the target?”

“Not who; what. We are to pull up a nuclear-proof case from this point.” She circled the map with her marker pen the location. “Retrieve it and get back to the helicopters. We won’t have the luxury of Blue team’s experience, since they will be moving from our location to another drop off point to tie up loose ends. We’re going in blind. If our intel is correct and luck is on our side, it should take no more than two hours.”

Caked in mud after forty-five minutes of trekking in South American rainforest, the entire squad’s movements were sluggish. They had barely seconds when Wheeler blew on her whistle to duck for cover when they met their opposition. The order to travel in a single file meant that they were each able to scurry into the underbrush and buttress roots of the magnificent trunks that made up the landscape.

Form their fire, they probably were a small group. No more than seven or nine people firing at them from a distance of two hundred meters. Neil and those around him did their best to fire back, but it was seemingly impossible without any kind of clear target.

Wheeler blew her whistle thrice quickly and once for a length. The agents stopped their firing and braced themselves. Neil slung his rifle over his shoulder and covered his ears with his hands, leaning against the thick roots for the impact. The opposition kept up their armed assault, oblivious as to why they’d stopped.

Neil watched the figure of the squad’s sole leader ready herself, signalling down the line at Ives, who took up the rear. In synchrony, their fingers pulled at the metal clasp and in one grand show threw the grenades to the distance. Unable to see the arc of the two firearm pieces fly through the air, Neil squeezed his eyes shut.

After two seconds, the first grenade went off, and a second later the second exploded. The ground shook and the mud from beneath him gave way. He slipped into the shallow stream they’d followed from the drop off point, scrambling to get up as the charge forward commenced. The opposition had stopped firing, so Neil didn’t bother wasting his bullets as he caught up with his team. The smaller trees were blown away from their roots, the compound doors intact yet on their hinges. Neil rolled to the greyish-brownish walls and huddled with his agents as a different agent, he couldn’t tell who, chucked a grenade through the entrance. He could feel his teeth chatter together from the explosion, hurting his already clenched jaw.

They pushed through, the others still shooting while Neil listened. They weren’t shooting back; the silver casings weren’t flying in their direction and if Neil focused, the gunfire seemed to only be from them. He was the first to stop running, raising his hand as a signal for them to stop. The three agents near him lowered their weapons. The others around them shouted and they shouted back. Slowly, the crunch of boots on the ground faded as they filtered through the compound gates, all thirty of them in alert, fingers twitching by their triggers.

In the distance, close by to hear but far enough that locating the direction was too difficult, was a cacophony of automated fire. With Wheeler as their only point of reference, the agents turned to her for explanation. She remained calm and alert, her fist clenched in the air for caution.

There weren’t any bodies. Any evidence that people had been shooting at them at all were non-existent. Blood stained the walls that surrounded the compound, the wooden make-shift platform that followed the perimeter swaying in the wind. The walls seemed thicker than they had thought, with several archways indicating an inner section. There was a three storey tower to the east of the giant hole that made up the centre of the compound, with rubble toward the west.

Nobody moved for a moment. Even the world beyond their own mission seemed to stand still; no birds chirped and when the dust settled, even the most miniscule of insects decided to stay grounded. The gunfire still seemed a distance way, but it was unmistakeable that it was approaching.

There was something about the rubble that caught Neil’s attention. While a group of five advanced in a triangle formation, Neil observed the smoke above the rubble, the sharp sunlight highlighting each particle. They behaved differently from how the grenade dust floated down, instead pulling and pushing each other, floating higher up in the sky like the hole was creating an up draft. All at once, the pieces and pebbles by his feet were moving on their own accord- that’s when it clicked.

“Get away-“

The rubble began inverting and the troops scattered for shelter. What looked like a rocket or a bazooka came flying out of the building, disappearing into the jungle. The formation of five were blown back, urgently scrambling to their feet as the rest surveyed the surroundings. The ground rolled, the west tower absorbed an explosion and stood up tall and proud. Since their antagonists had not shown, guns were kept at the ready, eyes forward on the two towers.

Now, Neil wasn’t sure if it was his imagination, but the ground from behind the formation seemed to wiggle, like a star-nosed mole would pop its little head out. It was right in the centre of the group of five as they helped each other up. He didn’t have time to dwell on it, because as quickly as it took for him to see it, whatever had been lodged yanked itself out with startling speed, going through the back of the head and helmet of an agent.

Initially, Neil thought the shot came from the reverted building. As he swivelled his head around he realised that in one of the archways stood an antagonist, their weapon drawn. Neil couldn’t react as more antagonists appeared, running out of the walls in their backward pace.

“Wheeler!” The yell was hoarse and strained, barely audible above the cacophony of bullets that shot out from the ground. Every agent scuffled for cover as the antagonists fired continuous and non-stop rounds, catching bullets. Only one agent was running toward the fallen body.

In that split second, Neil took off running after his colleague, pumping his legs as fast as he could while the others covered them with a rainfall of shell casings. Ives skidded to a halt on his knees and wrapped his hands around her arms, while Neil grabbed the chunky black boots; together they heaved their commanding officer off the field, ignoring the blood that trailed them.

Sheltering behind a chipped wall, Neil immediately began firing at the antagonists. It was impossible to tell who’d been the perpetrator of this crime, so Neil imagined that all of them were responsible, screaming his anger out as he let his semi-automatic rifle do its thing. By this time, more enemy soldiers immerged from the east tower, moving forward to meet with Red team’s fury while their partners filed down the stone steps. There were only several inverted persons who exited the west tower, catching bullets and moving for the hole. As much as Neil wanted to go down there and continue the mission, he paused and turned around.

Ives had clipped Wheeler’s helmet off and held her head on his lap. It was clear from those glassy eyes and the trickle of blood form her forehead what her status was. He wasn’t close enough to see it, but the bullet hole had shot right through her hairline, so that when her hair fell like so, it was barely visible. With Ives back turned to him, Neil could only reach out, swallowing his bile. The way the he stood so still, tensed up like a lioness about to pounce, Neil retracted his hand. The flash of hot anger brought Neil to a standstill, Ives radiating a vengeance like never before.

From there, things moved in a blur and Neil felt like his mind wasn’t keeping up with his body. As he sat in the swaying cargo bunk, the helicopter whisking the team away, he had trouble recollecting the events.

Somewhere, Ives’ shouts and grunts were all he could hear, the commander gunning down antagonists. Neil remembered following his lead, and then finding himself in the dark- the hole in the ground. Half buried in a seemingly hasty job was their target; together with Amos and Ezra, the three agents heaved the target onto the hook that hung from the ceiling, Neil tugging on it thrice. They rushed out as the nuclear-proof case, which resembled a warhead, was pulled up by Tokyo and Taylor.

When Blue team arrived was not entirely clear. How’d they managed to transport the target to the landing pad they came from was hazy. The only thing that was clear was that they were one person less from when they’d entered.

In the debriefing session, Neil would learn that Wheeler had been their one casualty. A rarity, an impossibility in their line of work.

And now he found himself seated in one of the two tweed chairs in David’s office. Apart from his shallow breathing, all he could hear was the soft hum of the air conditioner and the footsteps in the hall that constantly sounded like somebody would enter at any time. He was technically staring at the wooden bookcase that stood from floor to ceiling behind the desk, piled with empty binders and blank photo frames. There were no valuables after death, for what would a resurrected person need in this type of life?

He didn’t want to shut his eyes, because all he saw were flashes. The blood-soaked ground, the mission objective nearly slipping into the abyss of the hole, the three of them who were down there reaching out and nearly falling in themselves to retrieve it. How Blue team made an appearance so swift, their cavalry ensuring a difficult victory.

The door behind him opened and shut quickly.

“Neil, what are you-“ David started, reaching for the soft hands of his love. He paused at Neil’s solemn state, his eyes widening in realisation. “Oh, Neil.”

When he stood, Neil wished he were the shorter one in the relationship. He wanted nothing more than to stand and lean his head against David’s chest, to not exactly cry but heave his emotions out. Instead, because the fates deigned him the tall one, Neil leaned forward and pressed his face against the side of David’s head, his nose resting on the hairline.

There were so many things on the tip of his tongue. His mind drafted up a plead to send him back, to be the one to pull Wheeler away from her fate. The theoretical implications be dammed if it meant her life could be spared. _Get me a chalkboard and let me show you how I could do it without making a paradox_ , he would beg, knowing deep down that it would be impossible.

“What’s happened, happened. There’s no changing it, is there?” he whispered against David’s skin.

The office was relegated to a brief moment of quiet. The heaviness of those words rocked David to his core; Neil held him tight as this realisation sunk in. He wouldn’t be able to go back, not only due to constant worry of fucking up and creating a paradox (he hated the idea of forever being stuck in a loop), but what the others would say. What Ives would say. He shuddered at the thought.

“I’m sorry,” David murmured, tearing a hole in the balloon of silence. The air had gotten thick. He reached up and held the nape of Neil’s neck, applying soft pressure as he stroked the back of his head.

His bottom lip quivered and his eyes were squeezed shut in a preventative measure. With David enveloping him in a hug, the safest place was here. For just a brief moment of time, the director of Tenet allowed an agent to access those dreaded and locked away emotions; grief, anger, and shock giving way to the numbness that permeated every god-damn feeling.

Perhaps this was why David rarely entered the field; how many of their comrades had he’d seen killed only to be forced to work and interact with them after the fact? There was only so much a person could take before enough was enough. Had he ever been tempted to go back and change it all?

“How do you do it?” Neil asked through a dry sob.

Both of David’s hands found themselves by the sides of Neil’s face, gently turning his head so that they were eye to eye. He sucked in a breath; if it weren’t for the fact he was held in place, Neil would’ve taken a step back. His own hands worked their way up, brushing away the river of tears that broke free from those dark eyes.

“I don’t,” confessed David, sniffing up snot. “I just have to appear to.”

It was like falling in love all over again. Neil’s brow furrowed as he thumbed away the remaining tears that fell. How had the tables turned. He’d waited for his beloved in his office for a chance to life the load, only to find that the weights on David’s shoulders were crushing him.

“Oh, beloved,” he breathed, leaning down for a light kiss. His lips were soft and sweet, a good reminder that they belonged him. That the both of them were still alive. “I’m here.”

Quiet. And then.

“David’s my real name,” he whispered, peering into Neil’s pale blue eyes. “I want you to know: David’s my real name.”

What bittersweet taste on Neil’s tongue. As much as he wanted to believe that this was the truth, that in the light of the death of not only a trusted colleague but a skilled soldier and squad leader, that David was faced with his own morality and that everything good would come to an end one day. Crashing and burning and entirely unexpected. He wanted to believe that this wasn’t some attempt at a distraction, not unlike the mandatory raves and free alcohol served in the cafeteria. He wanted to believe in the normalcy of knowing his beloved’s true name. It was presented as truth; David is his real name. Then why didn’t Neil feel that lightness and bubbling sensation in his bones? As much as he wanted to trust that this was the truth, Neil didn’t accept it.

He bit his bottom lip, shut his eyes, and let himself smile into the kiss he gave, deeper and _more_ than the butterfly kisses. In a sigh, Neil brought his forehead forth so they were touching. His arms trailed down to David’s hips. The palms that held his head found their way to his forearms, where his touch was as light as a feather.

How long they stood there was difficult to estimate. They breathed in unison, inhaling and exhaling the emotions they were working through. It was as if they were of one entity, like two trees that fused in a swirling dance.

The footsteps continued to break the silence, with each step audible for differentiation. But David didn’t pull away, so Neil stayed where he was.

Then, in the distance, a pair of familiar boots stomped their way down. From the ever increasing volume, they were approaching this door. It was fine. They were good. The door swung open. Neil heard the sharp intake.

“Will you two keep your _fucking_ love life outside of the work place,” Ives all but yelled. His breathing was quick and loud, but he made an effort to breath in deeply as David broke away and stared at him. “Please.” Not quite politely, but a plead sure enough.

Neil couldn’t bear to glance at his colleague. The flash of how tense Ives seemed on the battlefield, how ferocious he attacked without mercy. In the past Neil joked and teased and prodded about their relationship- they were two high ranking commanders who’d led many a mission. They were ripe for a secret night rendezvous. He would project his wish of being public with David onto them, laughing at how Ives glared at him with murder in his eyes or how Wheeler rolled her eyes and shook her head at the inappropriateness of it all. Neil was afraid to look at his friend and find that there had been just a smidgen of truth to his jests. He regretted pushing so hard.

“Neil,” David spoke softly, reaching up, cupping his cheek.

He leaned into his touch, savouring the feeling. Neil took the hand and kissed the inside of David’s palm. Those palm lines he would trace and use to predict the future. Those callouses. His jaw clenched and he pulled away, careful to leave a meter of space between him and the soldier. Neil closed the door behind him.

If he were younger, he would’ve leaned against the door and slide down for all to see his emotional state. Make a show of being in touch with the sorrow that threatened to spill. He might’ve even locked himself in a utility room to break down these walls in peace.

Instead, after shutting the door, Neil walked calmly to the stairs. The grey and dull stairwell was empty, save for the sound of heels clicking concrete as whoever was in descent floors above. Neil took the steps two at a time, taking the exit needed and entering the cafeteria floor. It took him barely five minutes to find Amos, Ezra, and the other soldiers from his mission in the rows and rows of metal-grated tables and identical benches. They all sat slumped in their seats, pushing their meals around without eating.

Technically, the mission had been a tremendous success. Despite the struggle against the antagonists and lugging the nuclear-proof warhead suitcase to base, they’d achieved mission objective. Several injured, two in critical condition. One death. It felt unfair. Commander Wheeler was not replaceable (none of them were).

Off in the corner, Ibiza had started drinking on her own.

Although none of them felt like it, Neil knew he had to ask. This was a matter of employee morale, where their minds had to be kept free of attachments. Ignorance was their ammunition. Numbness is bliss. He knew he mirrored the same puffy eyes and empty glaze. Neil was the only one that dared to break the silence, placing his weight onto his hands, leaning against the table’s edge.

“Where’s the party?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i know this one has very little protagoneil, but hear me out: i wanted to have something centered on Wheeler but not in, like, a Wheeler fic. And i'm a sucker for the bit i wrote in the 5+1 fic, so i got it in neil's pov ehehehehe ;^) 
> 
> also, when i was rewatching the clip of protag and neil having tea in that hotel room, neil mentioned that the time travel theory was from WHEELER and Feynman. so then i thought: COINCIDENCE? I THINK NOT! i also wanted to feature something like wheeler's first partner in tenet being called feynman but ay lmao i'll save it for the pacific rim au fic wip
> 
> a thing i also wanted to have was the birth of what's happened happened, and i thought that having this realisation be with somebody he was kinda friends with would be interesting. i wanted protag to be around to hear him say it- and i was considering protag to say it, echoing future neil. but then the whole who said it first would be a bit hmmmm so i thought nah lmao
> 
> i have some fun ideas for the next chapter ;')


End file.
